I chose where I live based on intuition—I bought my first apartment simply because beautiful light filtered in through the window
I belong to the school of thought that location is key when looking for a home, writes Anna Brotkin in her column. A place’s character is shaped by its landscapes, sounds, scents, and atmosphere.
Where do you get your story ideas? Where did this one come from? These are the most common questions I’m asked as a screenwriter. I’d love to say a philosophical question started to nag at me, and that’s what sparked my idea. But most of the time, the real answer is that everything simply begins with a place.
I’m strongly inspired by different places—their unique features, landscapes, sounds, scents, and moods. That’s how a place’s character is formed. I begin each new fictional story by finding a place where the story is set or could be set. Sometimes it’s the other way around: I wander through various locations to soak up their spirit, looking for places I’d like to write about.
“I noticed that the wind in Ostrobothnia sounds different than it does in the south.”
For the film “Perhoset” (“Butterflies”), I spent time in the city of Seinäjoki to capture the spirit of the Finnish west coast and Ostrobothnia—the humor, pride, and resourcefulness. I chatted with locals in downtown cafés and bargain stores in the industrial areas, wandered around the town, tried local specialties like a pineapple burger, and savored the wide-open landscape. I noticed that the wind in Ostrobothnia sounds different than it does in the south.
My TV series Aikuiset also first took shape around a specific place. The hip Kallio district in Helsinki was the series’ main character before Oona, the actual protagonist. In Aikuiset, I tried to capture exactly how Kallio looked, sounded, and felt from 2018 to 2022: the long queues at the local flea market’s one-euro days, talk about natural wine, dried-flower shops, small plates meant for sharing, and rescue dogs everywhere. Twentysomethings dealing with identity crises, symbiotic friendships, and overwhelming love.
The importance of place also reaches into my home. I firmly believe location is the most important factor when house-hunting, sometimes down to the micro-location. What do I see through the window? What atmosphere do I walk into when I step outside? I’ve chosen every home based on instinct.
I bought my first apartment simply because beautiful light filtered in from exactly the right direction. I didn’t mind that it had fewer square feet than I’d planned, or that it didn’t have a separate bedroom, or that I couldn’t fit a washing machine in the bathroom. The key was that it felt right. I could do my laundry just fine in the shared laundry room, and I built a little fort-like nook for my bed in a corner of the living room.
“It wouldn’t be the same place anymore, because a house isn’t just a house—it becomes part of its surroundings.”
Sometimes, in a split-second moment of madness, I’ve wondered if I could move my family home to the seashore, since I’m more of a sea person than a lake person. Then I quickly realize I obviously can’t!
It wouldn’t be the same place anymore, because a house isn’t just a house—it belongs in the landscape. It’s the lake view from the window, the lilacs in the yard, the rustle of the maples by the front step on a September morning, the neighbors who live nearby, and the community, ecosystem, and history the house is part of.
